


A Short Story About Undershorts and Waffles

by Punk



Category: Medium
Genre: Domestic, F/M, Humor, Pants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-17
Updated: 2007-02-17
Packaged: 2017-10-02 03:40:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Punk/pseuds/Punk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Absolutely no one had tried to kill her in her sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Short Story About Undershorts and Waffles

**Author's Note:**

> In Honor of Scrunchy and the Jake Weber Boxers' Hour.

Allison woke with a jolt. Joe was gone and light was streaming through the windows. That was odd.

She grabbed at the alarm clock. "Did I oversleep?"

"No," her husband said, poking his head out from the bathroom. "You _slept_. It was amazing."

"I slept?"

"You didn't wake up once, and, more importantly, you didn't wake _me_ up once. This must be how normal people feel." His head disappeared. The water ran for a moment and he trundled back into view, the saggy butt of his boxers making her smile.

"Who wants to be normal?" she asked.

"If it lets me sleep until eight, I'll take it."

"Eight? Oh God, I'm going to be late for work." She tried to wrestle her way free of the covers. "Why didn't you wake me up? Hey, get off!"

He'd hopped into bed next to her, pinning her down, and was shaking his head as if it was very sad that his wife was so dumb. "It's Saturday," he said.

"What happened to Friday?"

"It passed on, as all good Fridays do. Not that it was, officially, a Good Friday, but we did have pizza for supper so I think it counts. I'm pretty sure the girls would agree."

She remembered now. Marie had peeled everything off of her slice, eating only the bread and the pineapple. It was going to be one of _those_ months. She sighed.

"Hey, you know what?" Joe propped his chin up in his hand, looked deep into her eyes, and said, "I feel like waffles."

"Funny," she said, "you don't _look_ like a waffle."

He pounced on her and she shrieked, laughing while he tickled her, and then she tongued his ear in retaliation and he fell off the bed.

"Ouch," he said, hair all in his eyes. "But what a way to go."

"Moooooom!" Bridgette, howling from the kitchen, no doubt feeling incredibly wronged over something of absolutely no importance to the rest of them.

"Stop yelling!" Ariel yelled. "God!"

"I'm being paged," Allison said, sliding out of bed and pulling her robe on. "I think you owe me waffles. I gave you an uninterrupted night's sleep and three beautiful daughters."

"Fair enough." Joe picked himself off the floor and hiked up his droopy shorts. "Ladies first."

She swept past him and, unable to resist, gave him a little slap on the ass on her way out.

And they lived waffily ever after.

The end.


End file.
